Mistletoe and Whine
by Blue-with-purple-polka-dots
Summary: Possible collection of Christmas based one-shots. Currently: AU. Sulley is a mall Santa Randall, as his 'head elf' is (unsurprisingly) less than enthused at the prospect. (Randall/Sulley shipping) For thatdoodlebug
1. Chapter 1

A collection of one shots!

Gifts for thatdoodlebug, my tumblr wife in the Christmas season. Randall and Sulley winter holiday interactions!

Some of these will be platonic, some not. This first one technically is.

_AU. Each year for the winter holidays a group of monsters decided to have a meal together. Another part of the tradition is that two monsters are randomly selected to do most of the work. This year Sulley and Randall have been drawn from the hat- this can only end well._

(Technically platonic, but I think when it comes to the stress of winter holidays everyone starts to sound like an old married couple).

(A/N:I am also still working on family- things got complicated, but I hope to work on it and get a chapter out before Christmas!)

* * *

"Sleigh bells _ring_ hmmm hmm hmm hmm"

Sulley pushed the trolley forwards and squinted at the list in the harsh artificial light of the store. It squeaked against the smooth and finished floor.

Like most stores it had music to fit the season as well as garish bits of tinsel and holly lining the many shelves (and even mistletoe, to which Sulley raised an eyebrow at and tried to side step every time he came across it).

He briefly grinned before deciding to stick a Santa hat on top of his head as well as antlers into the cart in front of him. He could imagine Randall's reaction to all this, and he tried not to laugh at the image of Rex and Joey utterly insisting he had to wear the damn things.

He felt he deserved a small token of revenge at the end of the day.

Stopping and pulling a large jar of cranberry sauce off the shelf he squinted at it as if it was a part of a serious interrogation, with deep secrets to unlock until he heard something he really didn't want to hear.

_'Booty booty booty booty rocking everywhere...'_

He stopped and felt himself blush as two female monsters holding their own baskets heaving with meats and vegetables started to laugh as the song continued.

"_Mike_." he thought to himself. "_Stop __**changing**__ my ringtone_"

Not being the most adept at technology he still didn't know how to change it back to something else. He'd only bought the damn thing a month ago when Randall had insisted that they needed to be in constant communication if this whole thing was to go on without a hitch.

Randall as it happened had control issues. What a surprise.

He glanced at the number before answering all the same, though there was really no point.

"What now?" He said to himself.

'_rocking everywhere rockin-'_

"Hey Randall- hey when you said cranberry sauce did you mean the store brand or Mrs Betty's-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD SULLIVAN NEXT TIME I GET PICKED OUT OF THE HAT I'M MAKING EVERYONE GO VEGETARIAN."

Sulley really should have learned by now to hold the phone away from his ear _immediately_ when answering it. He sighed and looked the phone at arms length now, with the steadied caution of a bomb expert who was all too used to this by now.

"What's wrong this time?" he asked with more patience when he pressed it back to the side of his head. This had been the third or fourth time he'd called him in the last half hour. Usually to make sure Sulley hadn't got lost in the condiment aisle or that he had got the exact thing he needed (not wanted- _needed_) on the list. Or to ask what the hell was taking so long.

(Sulley sometimes suspected Randall was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to. Voicing this theory got him a snap to shove it.)

"There's... there's guts in this thing." Randall said making a disgusted noise.

Sulley hesitated before answering.

"...Yes. And?"

"And I have to remove them." he said with barely repressed anger. Because how dare this bird which had sacrificed itself to be their meal do this to him.

"Look just hold on, I'll be there in like half an hour, I can do it if you want." He pushed the cart forwards again and looked thoughtfully at the pecan pie. Oh god, he was so _hungry_. He'd missed breakfast to do this.

"And get hair in it like Sanderson did the year before last?- No _way_ Sullivan." He simply got in reply.

Randall was someone who remembered every last mistake a particular team had made over the years with ruthless efficiency. Something went wrong every year if they were honest with themselves. Though Sulley mostly remembered that, no matter what, everyone eventually had fun- even Randall who was somewhat of a grouch sometimes complete with a perky paper party hat.

"You really have to learn to _relax_ Randall, it's the holidays."

"... _you_ need to stop living with Wazowski." Randall muttered darkly. "I hate the holidays." he added and Sulley repressed sighing again, instead silently rolling his eyes as Randall rather predictably went off to rant.

"It's cold outside. Buying stupid presents and cards even for people you don't like. SNOW. Mistletoe in the hands of all the wrong monsters."

"It was just a kiss on the cheek Randall. He was just being nice."

"_Fungus_ needs to learn to back off." This diversion didn't distract him from his rant. He immediately went back into it, not missing a beat. It was almost impressive.

"It's cold. Disastrous fashion sense suddenly becomes acceptable. The damn _songs_ playing everywhere..."

Ah yes the songs, part of the reason Sulley was in the store instead.

"IT'S COLD OUTSIDE."

"Yes you mentioned that." he said glancing at the 'Free from' section.

"You are no help at all you damn furry... chump." he was coming dangerously close to whining at this stage and Sulley felt a small twinge of pity, even if it was really Randall's own fault he was biting off more then he could chew.

Randall had more or less said he would take over the kitchen and Sulley would be barred from it apart from more monotonous tasks like peeling potatoes. He'd more or less become the errand boy in all this being sent to buy random items (or well everything actually), Randall saying he didn't trust him to do anything beyond the heavy lifting or getting a particularly freshly slaughtered Turkey from an aunt of Sulley's who raised them just out of town. That was all he was good for apparently.

After all even the microwave seemed to explode if Sulley so much as _looked_ at the thing funny. Randall was adamant that this year everything would be utterly perfect. _He_ wasn't about to be blamed if something went horribly wrong.

"I'm getting wheat free flour for your cake and for the sauce." Sulley added in conversation as he did put some in the cart.

Randall snorted.

"_Ugh_. Why did Celia have to be Celiac. Did her parents have a damn sixth sense or something."

"Yes, and I'm sure Celia did it just to make your life difficult".

"Don't play smart with _me _Sullivan. I think you're a little out of your league." Randall snapped on edge again.

"Take a deep breath." Sulley said.

"Oh COME-"

"Randall." he said sternly.

He finally heard him comply on the phone. In and out.

"...Better?"

"Yes- EXCEPT I STILL HAVE TO GUT THIS DAMN TURKEY."

Sulley had to laugh, he could tell somehow, even though he was yelling he did feel a little bit better at least. Sulley leaned back, creaking his back a little as he did so, the phone still pressed against his head.

"Put it this way Randall. Mike and Celia managed to do it a few years back when it was their turn."

There was a very pregnant pause on the other end of the line.

"I am gutting this damn turkey if it _kills_ me." He said in raw determination.

In actual fact, it had been Celia who had done it by herself. Mike had been far too grossed out by it to even think about it.

(In actual fact Mike had fainted.)

It was actually how the two had come to finally date... it had been an interesting scene in which to come back to. Just a year before that one meal Sulley had invited Randall to on a whim and that Randall had somehow agreed to come to- and he'd more or less become part of it ever since despite his own gripes and complaints. Ahh memories. Sulley had had to buy a new fire extinguisher the next day.

"Anything else you want from here?" He decided to finally ask after some silence.

"Just get your furry ass back here Sullivan, so you can sort the vegetables for tomorrow."

"Yes _sir."_

At this Randall snorted and finally rang off.

Sulley laughed himself as it happened.

They were so doomed. But things would work out. They usually did in his experience.


	2. Chapter 2

This actually may be my last one before Christmas I hope you like it thatdoodlebug!

Be warned other folks there will be some actual Sulley/Randall shipping in this one. As is standard however, it is fairly humourous. Pre-relationship.

AU. Monsters Incorporated occasionally does charity work over the holiday season, this year, feeling the company is in need of an extra boost, Waternoose sends on his two top Scarers to maintain the magic of the season...as a mall Santa. Or well, Sulley is Santa anyway. Randall, as his 'head elf' is (unsurprisingly) less than enthused.

* * *

"This is just freaking typical." Randall said to himself as he adjusted the perky green and pointed hat and looked at himself in the mirror. Even though it wasn't really typical, and he had never done this before (and would probably see to it he never would again).

It was quite the contrast: bright, cheery colours clashed with the dourest expression the monster world had ever seen. But then they weren't in public right now. Behind closed doors he could be as grumpy and cantankerous as he liked. And he would be, readily, he'd just have to be... comparatively _less_ so when in public.

He had his limits after all.

Because the world was just laughing at him right now and had every reason to do so.

He stepped forwards and heard a hearty jingle coming from his feet.

"Ugh."

This fashion disaster was, he suspected, also to prevent any attempts at which he could disappear and escape. He looked down at the two pairs of green shoes, lined with red at the top of his ankle and with golden coloured bells on the end of each toe to match that one bell also on the end of his hat. They squeezed at his feet uncomfortably, despite having been made for him.

They also matched the 'dashing' green (with red) cardigan he now had on which had deformed snowmen sown on them as well as reindeer.

He hated those snowmen more then anything. If they were real he would have wrestled one of the mob at the drug store for a hair dryer- and he would smile to himself as he watched it melt right before his eyes.

Randall didn't like the cold after all. He never really had. He could deal with it- but dealing with it didn't mean he liked it in any real way. Still, in the stifling hot land that was a shopping centre, where blood baths and wars were wrought for toys and parents tried to maintain the magic for their kids by taking them to the mall to see Santa, he actually wouldn't have minded a passing blizzard.

This was the time of year certain monsters who should remain nameless would shine- though it wasn't as if they didn't any other time of the year, he thought bitterly. He straightened the cardigan and sighed as he took in his appearance yet again. His dignity was now gone, or it would be when they stepped out of the changing room into the main room in question of garish tinsel and twinkling lights, where Randall would have to stand like a chump all day, guiding children into the 'grotto' of cheap plastic and fake snow while his co-worker got to sit on his big ass instead as the main attraction.

Just so _freaking_ **typical**. Even if Randall drew the line at sticky messes climbing onto his lap (it wasn't as if he really had one to use anyway).

His thought process was, however, soon broken.

"Wuh!" A crash, a bang and suddenly silence from the other corner of the room, where another monster, somehow embarrassed (despite the fact they were technically _naked _) had decided to try and change more discreetly and away from him.

Ah yes, the other downside to this whole mess. Perhaps he'd injured himself? Despite everything Randall actually kind of hoped not.

He didn't want to have to be the one to haul an unconscious James P Sullivan out that small door- if he even could manage to do that. Or worse, have to replace him. Especially since it was just them here, their Assistants apparently having being spared from this humiliation. No, just the Scarers were needed apparently, the small donations the parents would give as an entrance fee simply going to worthy causes.

(They'd better be damn worthy, Randall thought).

James P Sullivan (as in, Santa) looked up, giving him a sheepish smile, the dividing screen now tangled in his feet, as Randall put his second pair of hands on his hips and once more gave the impression of the grumpiest elf in existence.

"Sorry- I'm not used to pants." Sulley said in excuse as he hauled the red and white faux-fur lined trousers on while still lying down. There was a tail hole, which he'd managed to get his tail through, but they were still a little too tight. He heaved a sigh in relief however when he finally got them on.

He stood up, looking a little more proud of himself then he probably should have.

"And come on Randall cheer up- it's for charity you know." Sulley then tilted his head and smirked. "What? You don't like charity?"

Randall rolled his eyes as he finally looked at him, now with black boots which looked even more uncomfortable than his shoes. He was hardly going to encourage any call backs to college- not from him of all people.

"Just button up that jacket, Sullivan and make it snappy, they'll be here any minute." He said, tapping his front right foot, the effect being ruined with the tinkles of the bells on it.

Sulley however was all thumbs it seemed when it came to the ridiculously small buttons. "_Ugh_."

Agitated further Randall began to swish his tail as he watched Sulley struggle with the offending piece of clothing.

There had been an agreement after all. They just had to go through three hundred kids- a snap in a mall as large as this, and that would be considered an end to their standard company community service, unless they wanted to do more of their own free-will. (Yeah _right_, they were having a laugh _there_). The sooner this started, the sooner it could be _over_ and but of course James P Sullivan was standing in the way of what he wanted more than anything.

Just so utterly typical.

After a few seconds of this and Sulley getting nowhere Randall threw his hands in the air, jingling angrily.

"Oh for the love of- Give it _here_." he snapped.

He stomped forwards and without warning, or asking if he could, began to button it up.

And for whatever reason Sulley let him.

"Um. Thanks?" He finally said.

Randall accidentally brushed his fingers against his chest in surprise as he moved to the next to last button and froze.

It then became apparent that as he was doing this he became a little too aware of certain things. Like Sullivan's warm breath hitting the side of his face, or the fact his is fur felt soft and ticklish between his fingers- or the rise and fall of his deep and heavy chest.

He towered over him and seemed to be gazing at him rather intently when he looked up into his face. He even quirked a smile at him, but it somehow seemed less aggravating up close.

Or rather not very aggravating at all.

Randall blinked and felt his fronds begin to rise as well as his own face grow warmer.

As it happened, without glasses, Randall hadn't had a good look at James P Sullivan's face for some time now. But even despite being different from all those years ago, up close he was still in some ways... attractive.

There he'd put a pin in it, now he could move on and continue to button him up. Right?

For heaven's sake they were both usually _naked_. Why did putting _on_ clothes have to be so awkward? He flushed further and suddenly found himself struggling with the buttons himself, despite his usually more deft fingers. He let out a hiss of exasperation.

"Uh, you feeling okay?" He felt a large paw place itself directly on his left shoulder warm breath once more ghosting over his face. "You need some water?"

Having this amount of attention from James P Sullivan was unusual but then he didn't have a choice in the matter not in these close quarters.

Then Randall wordlessly reached his hand into a gap within the jacket, where it was still unbuttoned and rested his hand there, before clutching at the fur. With another hand he tugged at the side of the jacket, pulling Sulley's head downwards.

Sulley had just been about to ask what he was doing. Randall would later say he was dehydrated, that the heat had been getting to him, that was all, but in any case, whatever his reasons may have been, soon afterwards 'Santa' found his 'Head Elf' pressing him against the wall, his tongue right in his mouth.

And 'Santa' found himself pulling this 'Head Elf' closer, growling a little and hitching his own shoulders up.

Somehow Randall didn't find that he minded the warmth, not now, as the other ran a soft large hand down his back, causing him to arch his spine and curl in closer to him, his tail beginning to edge and stroke its way across Sulley's back.

(Sulley would later say it just had been a while for him, that was all, though judging by the throaty moan and Randall deepening it further, he hadn't gotten _rusty_- that was for sure.)

"That- that was for not getting me that bike when I was ten." Randall spluttered trying to maintain his composure when he pushed himself off him.

Sulley looked vaguely dazed and then had to laugh at the other monster's expression.

Randall had the _weirdest_ trains of thought.

Still, feeling daring he quirked an eyebrow as he stepped forwards leaning down. "Got... anything _else_ I have to make up for?"

Perhaps he would have said something crude, something about Randall telling him exactly what he wanted while sitting on his lap (and probably cause an even more flustered Randall to hit him over the head with a plastic reindeer while Sulley laughed).

_Then_ however he glanced at the door way, suddenly noticing a very small shape within it, looking gobsmacked.

Eventually however, they found their voice.

"_Moooooom_, I thought Santa was married to Mrs. Claus!"

He barely kept himself from swearing.

Santa didn't swear.

Then again Santa didn't make out with his employees either, he was pretty sure.


End file.
